Dead as a Doornail
by StrictlySomething
Summary: Ichigo should've realized that one didn't just tear through the Soul Society, save a convict, and somehow manage to defeat several Captain-classed shinigami without consequences. That's the last time he ever tried to play the hero.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I never have and never will be the owner of Bleach. I only manage to create fiction off of fiction, nothing more, nothing less.**

**Update: Some new material was added to the chapter during its revision.**

**Enjoy the Chapter**

**Prologue (Revised 6/9/12):**

Ichigo felt a muscle twitch in his upper jaw for the umpteenth time as he paced in the tiny room that the shinigami guards had shoved him into earlier that morning.

He must've been crazy to think that the Soul Society would just let him leave after all he'd done. You didn't just waltz into the Soul Society with a couple of friends, break down all of their defenses, defeat multiple captain-ranked shinigami, illegally save a girl from execution andthen just waltz back out.

A ryoka, let alone a _human_ ryoka with powers that rivaled a Captain's own wouldn't be allowed on his own after something like that.

Of course, he hadn't been thinking that earlier. In fact, for some crazy reason, he'd had the notion that everything was as right as rain. He'd saved the girl and, well, _attempted _to stop the bad guy (he didn't really want to think about _that _fiasco right now) and so it seemed reasonable to assume that he'd be heading back home for a well deserved entry back into normalcy.

Right? Wrong.

Ichigo had only made it two steps towards the Senkaimmon meant to take him out of the Soul Society before that woman captain, Soifon, had appeared at his side and snapped a reiatsu blocker to his wrist without so much as a by your leave.

He'd barely managed an outraged, "What the- ?" before he'd been pulled away from Orihime, Chad and Uryu, led through the maze that made up the Goteii 13 and placed in the damn holding cell he was in now.

At first he'd thrown a huge tantrum; kicking at the door, swearing loudly, threatening to rip through the entire Goteii 13 _again, _the whole shebang. But a few hours of no response had him simmering down to a low boil.

The bracelet Soifon had snapped around his wrist blocked any power he had to punch through the walls around him and the guards outside were either deaf or simply didn't care about the number of profanities the youth they were guarding knew.

So he'd begun pacing back and forth across the tiny space, forcing himself to think about the situation calmly. Chad, Orihime, and Uryu hadn't been confronted like him, so hopefully they'd been allowed to go home. They were safe, and that was one less thing to worry about. And hopefully Yoruichi was pleading his case to the shinigami, whatever that case may be.

After all, aside from tearing through the Goteii 13 like it was tissue paper, he'd always been fairly responsible with his powers and it wasn't like he was planning on breaking any more rules in the future.

Although, he thought, freezing momentarily. There were those few minutes during his fight with Byakuya that he'd lost his control completely. Ichigo touched his face slightly, thinking of the mask he'd had to rip off.

Maybe he wasn't so safe to be around after all. And maybe Byakuya had told everyone else about that incident. He took in a shaky breath.

The door opened and a man Ichigo recognized as Rukia's Captain walked in quickly. Ukitake Juushiro.

He dropped his hand from his face immediately, "Ukitake, what's going on?"

The captain looked uneasy, but he attempted a smile, "Hello Kurosaki-san, sorry to keep you waiting for so long."

"So am I allowed out of here then?" Ichigo demanded, skipping formalities.

Ukitake sighed, "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible Kurosaki-san."

A growl rose in his throat as he stepped closer to the sickly man, "Why the hell not? Your Head Captain never charged me with anything, and it's time I went home!"

Ukitake winced at his tone of voice, "I know you're upset, Kurosaki-san and I'm terribly sorry for the confusion. Head Captain Yamamoto only placed the order to detain you a few minutes before you were due to leave."

"Want to tell me why?" he snapped impatiently.

"It has been decided that you are too much of a threat to be left unsupervised," Ukitake began gently, explaining, "Kurosaki-san, you hold power that rivals some Captain-class Shinigami. It would be unwise to leave that powerful of a resource untrained and left as a Substitute. "

_So this wasn't about his episode with Byakuya then. _

His relief at that fact almost overcame the anger he felt at hearing the rest of that sentence. _Almost._

"What does that mean? You guys want to train me?"

Ukitake winced again, "Not exactly."

"Then what? Whatever it is it can't take long, summer is almost over and when it is, my life starts up again. I have to go to school and help my dad at the clinic. I can't just stay in this cell forever!"

"The order's been released to kill you."

Ichigo's blood turned cold and he took a step back from the man before him, suddenly more than aware of how powerful the fragile-looking man actually was. Ukitake could kill him in a second while he was defenseless like this.

Ukitake held up his hands quickly, "Oh no, it's not like that, Kurosaki. I'm only talking about your human body. Captain Yamamoto has ordered that it be destroyed immediately. You see, a Substitute Shinigami can't be trusted to fully understand the rules and guidelines that the Goteii 13 follows, let alone follow them himself. As a human they have too many connections to the human world and they can easily be pulled from duty. Normally this can be overlooked, but because of your power and our current situation the Head Captain feels it would be best to have you become a full Shinigami immediately."

His look of horror was still frozen on his face.

"Is that supposed to be acceptable to me?" he demanded, outraged. "Do you people honestly think I'd be okay with this? What the hell are you thinking? There's no damn way I'd join your group if you killed my _freaking_ body!"

Ukitake looked somewhat miserable himself, "I understand your frustration, Ichigo. And I apologize that you fell into this for trying to save a member of my division. But this is in consideration of what's best for the Soul Society. A unit from the Onmitsukido has already been sent out into the Human World in search of your body. It's only a matter of time now."

If only there were a more reasonable way of expressing disbelief, outrage, and horror in one facial expression. As it was, Ichigo only managed to look mildly constipated.

"Are you people insane? If you kill me, I will NOT join you, or help you at all for that matter! In fact, I'm pretty sure I'd feel the need to kick your ass!"

With a troubled expression, Ukitake continued hesitantly, "I'm afraid it isn't that easy, Kurosaki-san. When one dies and comes to the Soul Society, they lose all memory of their previous life. Once your body is killed, the connection that makes you human will be lost and you will undoubtedly forget that any of this ever happened."

"What?" Ichigo cried out, even more alarmed than before. He'd forget everything? His family, his friends, the whole freaking _arc_ he'd just gone through to rescue Rukia?

Despair began to build and he felt light-headed. Sitting on the bed, so not to collapse completely, he stared desperately at Ukitake, "What about my friends?"

"They were allowed to leave peaceably, although they put up a mild fuss after you were taken. I believe there are orders to erase their memories once they've arrived back in the world of the living," the Captain said gently, "they'll be left alone after that."

"And my family?" he asked.

"Their memory will have to be altered as well. Everyone will be left to believe you accidentally died somehow."

Silence ruled the room for the next few moments until Ukitake sighed, "I apologize again for putting you through this, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo didn't even bother to respond.

He was going to be freaking _killed._ His friends and family were going to forget him. He was going to end up serving some crazy old grandpa for who knew how long, and he wouldn't even be able to remember how much they'd already screwed him over.

Ugh. That was the _last_ time he played the hero. Although, he thought in despairing amusement, he wouldn't remember his sworn promise not to. With his luck, his stupid dead self would run off to save someone at the first moment.

And worse, he'd be doing it without his friends, who wouldn't even remember him, except for maybe Urahara, and Yoruichi.

Thinking of those two brightened his thoughts. They both worked outside of the Gotei 13, both were incredibly powerful, and he liked to think both of them wouldn't just let Ichigo be whisked away without a fight.

He let out the breath he'd been holding.

Old Hat-and-Clogs wouldn't just leave him to die.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Kon walked down the street idly.

He was admittedly bored. The excitement at getting to be in a human body, even one like Ichigo's had long since warn off in its novelty. Now, he was just ready to get back to doing his own thing.

And suddenly he was surrounded by twenty ninja shinigami.

Freezing in midstep, he swallowed drily, "Uhm… Can I help you?"

A young woman flickered into his vision. She was short, but still not too bad on the eyes. He managed to remain somewhat calm until he noticed her familiar haori.

_Crap! A shinigami Captain was standing right in front of him…. Along with twenty lackeys! He was dead meat!_

He backed away from her hesitantly, raising his hands up in defense, "Now, now. Surely we can talk about this—" he started feebly.

He didn't even see a flicker of movement before he felt something dangerously sharp pierce his body twice.

"Damn," he muttered feebly, before his body fell to the ground and his capsule rolled out of its mouth. Ichigo's body died within seconds.

The Onmitsukido squad and Captain disappeared immediately after.

A few seconds later a desperate Urahara _shunpoed_ onto the scene. Taking a look at the body he realized he'd been too late.

"Well… shit."

* * *

Ukitake watched Ichigo uncertainly. He'd expected more yelling, perhaps even some furniture throwing, but surprisingly Ichigo had calmed down.

He opened his mouth to say something comforting, but snapped it shut a few minutes later. What could he say? The boy was about to be killed. And he was far too young to easily accept the reasons.

_Hey, sorry that we're going to have to kill you soon and take you away from everything you love. But, you know, being a full-time shinigami won't be too bad. Dental's good._

Or.

_Can I get you a book to pass the time? A glass of water? I wouldn't want you to be too bored while we wait for the others to kill your body._

Suddenly, the door of the cell slammed open and two guards collapsed inwards as Yoruichi stormed in, "Alright Ichigo, I'm here to get you out of here. Don't worry, I told Urahara to watch your body."

Ukitake allowed himself to feel a small amount of hope for the boy. After all, he wasn't a cruel man and the 16 year old before him deserved to live out the remainder of his human life before being sucked into Soul Society politics. Ichigo jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "It's about ti—"

The boy froze suddenly, his expression going slack as he fell flat onto his face with a loud thump. Immediately a huge surge a reiatsu rushed collectively through the room in an instant backlash of what Ukitake could only assume was the boy's death. Both he and Yoruichi stood stock still, letting the impact of the moment fully sink in.

He cautiously turned to the form of the former Second Division Captain. She was known to explode into rage when upset and this had most definitely been upsetting.

He'd rather not become the scapegoat she used to beat her frustrations out on. It would undoubtedly be an unpleasant experience.

She looked surprisingly calm considering.

"Shihoin-san?" he asked hesitantly. He froze when she directed a calculating stare in his direction.

"Yes, Captain Ukitake?" she asked pleasantly enough, causing him to swallow.

"Are you well?"

"Probably not," she admitted. "But after I punch in a few skulls, I imagine I'll feel ten times better."

Seeing his horrified look, she continued, "Don't worry, Ukitake-san. You're not on that list just yet. No, I was thinking of two a little more closer to home."

Yoruichi's eyes had picked up a certain feral quality as she continued talking, slowly turning to the she walked out completely, she added as an afterthought, "Watch after_ him_," she gestured towards the unconscious Ichigo, "while I'm gone. And don't think I'm going to let the Soul Society brainwash him completely, I'll most definitely be back."

And with a faint swish, the Goddess of Flash was gone to extract an undoubtedly painful vengeance.

He released a faint sigh of relief. His pity went out to the two poor souls she had mentioned. If the killing intent he'd felt coming from her as she talked was anything to judge by, they wouldn't be getting off lightly.

The sound of faint snoring interrupted his musings and brought his attention to the boy on the floor.

In his death, he already looked years younger than his living self, as all souls did when they first entered the Soul Society. It was a guilty reminder that he was only 16 years old, an incredibly young age for a newly created soul.

_The Gotei 13 had enforced the death of a child so that it could save its own skin._

He felt the weight of his own age bearing down heavily at the thought. But he had learned how to push his guilt back into the recesses of his mind a long time ago. There wasn't anything more he could do about it.

For now it would be best to get Ichigo off the floor. From that backlash of power earlier, he probably needed to be checked out at the Fourth Division. It wouldn't do to have him be unintentionally injured after all that they'd already put him through.

Clearing his throat, he called out softly, "Kiyone, Sentaro. You can come out now."

His two stumbling Third Seats fell out from behind a wall panel into a sobbing mess on the floor, "We apologize for following you, Captain! We only hid in the interest of your welfare!"

He prevented from rolling his eyes, "Yes, yes. Would you be so kind as to take Kurosaki-san to the Fourth Division? And try not to jostle him too much please."

Kiyone jumped to her feet, "Captain! I would be happy to do so! Thank you for giving this responsibility to me personally!"

Sentaro rapped her over the head, "Idiot! Can't you see that the Captain was clearly asking _me_ to do it? You could never handle such an important task!"

He sighed quietly, interrupting them before they got too carried away, "Would _both_ of you kindly do it, please?"

They saluted smartly, "Yes, sir!"

Grabbing Ichigo quickly they ran out the door, arguing about who was the better carrier the entire way. "And don't forget to not jostle him please?" Ukitake hopelessly tried once more.

When he was entirely alone, save for the two incapacitated guards Yoruichi had handled earlier (who wouldn't be getting up for quite some time), he thought some more about Ichigo's situation.

The boy had obvious talent, and because of Capt— Aizen's betrayal he would be rushed through the academy so that he could be placed in a division quickly, if not placed in a division from the start.

For both his and Yoruichi's consciences he _did_ want to look after the boy, so it'd be best if he could place him in his own or even Shunsui's division. That way he could keep a decent eye on him. The fact that the child was made of particularly good Vice Captain material, well, that didn't hurt his interest either.

Of course, he wasn't the only Captain who'd want the powerhouse. Off the top of his head he knew that Kenpachi, Kurotsuchi and Kuchiki already had strong interest in the boy specifically. And everyone always competed some when a new potential high-ranking shinigami passed through training. He shuddered just remembering the struggle everyone went through when Shiro-kun first showed up. Of course, the boy was promoted to captain so quickly there really wasn't much of a chance for the Captain of 10th to rub his victory in before he was run out of house and home.

Ukitake took a deep preparing breath. Between Kurosaki and Aizen, things were sure to be busy for a good while. As it was, he couldn't waste any more time.

* * *

Urahara had known it was coming. He had realized it the moment he had seen Ichigo's dead body. But that still didn't mean he was ready for it.

He raised his hands up defensively as he backed away from the feral woman in front of him, "Now, now, Yoruichi. Surely we can talk this out?"

She gave no response except to take another looming step forward.

He gave a weak chuckle, "Come now, you know I didn't mean for Ichigo-kun to get killed."

A cat's low growl shot across the room.

"You hardly gave me enough warning here," he whimpered, "and how was I supposed to know the Soul Society would move so fast? Normally there is _soo_ much bureaucratic tape."

Apparently the excuses weren't good enough, he realized, as Yoruichi's form shot across his vision.

_Well, shit._

He seemed to be thinking that a lot lately.

* * *

Soifon suddenly felt incredibly giddy. She frowned at the feeling, analyzing it critically. Emotion rarely escaped her tightly drawn reigns of control, and when it did it usually revolved around one of two things. Her precious Yoruichi-sama or Yoruichi-sama's horrid, despicable, undeserving, lazy, stupid fiend of a friend, Urahara. That easy-going, no-good, stuck-up bastard.

Normally any emotions felt towards the latter were distinctly _negative_, and yet, her instincts told her she felt giddy over that piece of trash. She thought about it a moment more before smirking victoriously, suddenly identifying the emotion exactly. It was the feeling one got when their enemy was being humiliated in the worst way imaginable.

She could only hope the emotion was whole-heartedly accurate. There was a good probability it was, her instinct rarely lied about such things.

She returned to walking with a bounce in her step, not for once thinking that in precisely three hours and thirty seven minutes when one unfortunate shopkeeper had been swept up, she would experience a similar fate.

**To be continued.**

**Author's Note: Here's an idea that's been building up in me for a while now. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Tell me what you think! **

**Thanks for reading,**

**StrictlySomething**


	2. Chapter I

**AN: The prologue has been edited and a few more scenes were added.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**Chapter One:**

A white paper lantern rested outside of the Kurosaki household. It was so light that it shook with the slightest breeze. But even then, its weight bowed Keigo's head.

Ichigo was dead.

His body had been found in the middle of the road, blocks away, just yesterday morning.

Why Ichigo had been out on that particular street at that particular time, no one could guess. But it was a bitter fruit to bear, knowing that one of Keigo's best friends, his _strongest_ best friend, had been downed by a hit-and-run driver on a side street that hardly anyone ever used.

_Ichigo was dead._

He swallowed heavily as Mizuiro knocked gently on the door beside him, his grip on the _koden_ in his hands tightening. He wasn't good at this. Being sad. He didn't like the painful vice-like grip it pulled on his heart. He didn't like how his hands started shaking and his eyes filled with tears at a single thought.

Mizuiro was handling it much better than him. As stoic as he always was, even if he hadn't checked his phone in hours.

The door opened slowly, revealing a familiar looking stranger. The man stood in a pale grey suit, bearing glasses that framed narrow blue eyes and premature silver hair.

"Uh…" Keigo attempted to speak. It took him a few moments to realize the similarities the man had with their classmate Uryu, but Mizuiro was quicker on the uptake.

"Mr. Ishida," Mizuiro nodded politely.

_This must be Uryu's father!_

The fact dawned on Keigo, who was shocked, not having any clue that the man was close to any of the Kurosaki's.

"Kojima Mizuiro, Asano Keigo" the man greeted, opening the door wider to allow them entrance. An empty hall faced them, a small table set up dauntingly in the entrance way.

Keigo felt a shiver go down his spine.

Wakes. Funerals. They were like the livings' way of tying up loose ends with the dead. He hated the finality of it all. He didn't want an end. He wanted to keep all of his loose ends bundled up close to his soul, wanted to hold onto them with everything he had.

He didn't want to say goodbye.

Mizuiro, again in a show of far more strength than Keigo had, stepped in first, setting an envelope tied with a thin black and white ribbon down on a stack of similar papers.

The door shut and with a start Keigo realized that the older Ishida had remained, observing them coolly from the entrance. Keigo swallowed involuntarily at the other man's stare. Suddenly his fellow classmate's cold personality was making a lot more sense.

He rushed to the table, dropping his own _koden_ on top of Mizuiro's and signed the registry quickly.

"C'mon, Mizuiro," he whispered quickly, walking forward.

Before turning the corner into the other room, he caught one last glance of Ishida checking their _koden_, tallying their worth into a notebook he held in his hand.

"Geez," he muttered, rubbing his hair and giving a short uncomfortable laugh, "some receptionist huh? Wonder why they chose him?"

Mizuiro just shrugged, "Uryu's father runs Karakura Hospital, Ichigo's," he hesitated over his deceased friend's name, "dad runs the local clinic. They would have had to work with each other for years, probably know each other pretty well by now."

His nose picked up the smell of incense, and his footsteps slowed as they drew closer to the end room. His hands were shaking again, despite the small distraction Ishida had provided.

Taking a deep breath, he took the last step through the open archway into the Kurosaki living room. The couches and home entertainment system had been cleared away to make room for the audience in front of the family altar.

It was a small affair, nevertheless, the sight of so many familiar faces all gathered together for such a reason shook Keigo.

There was Tatsuki. Her face hardened in a heavy resolve, her good arm around Orihime (_strange, _Keigo thought, _wasn't Orihime supposed to be gone for the summer?_). But there was Chad too, and Keigo knew that he'd had plans. Uryu was close to them as well, an unreadable expression on his face. Their lack of emotion shook Keigo's own resolve, but he forced himself to keep his eyes moving.

Ichigo's father was slumped on a cushion directly in front of the family altar, his head bowed. Ichigo's sister Yuzu was directly at his side, her head leaning on his shoulder in exhaustion.

Mizuiro nudged him, and he grimaced, rubbing his shoulder as they both moved forward.

In front of them, and beside the altar stood a heavy casket. His eyes had been avoiding it until now, but he had run out of excuses not to look at it.

_Ichigo._

He forced himself to bow, following tradition as tears built in his eyes once more. Mizuiro did the same and rang the altar bell quietly.

His sniffling was more than a little obvious and he shook his head ruefully, Ichigo would've drop-kicked his ass if he could see him now. The thought released a strangled chuckle and he rested his hand on top of the casket for a moment.

"Damn it, Ichigo. Who's going to chase the girls with me now?"

"Tch. Ichigo never did that with you anyway, idiot," Mizuiro said quietly.

"Nah, he was too busy playing hard to get, the clever cad. A subtle, but effective approach," Keigo rebutted, but without his normal conviction.

"Always trying to lighten the mood, Keigo," Mizuiro sighed.

Keigo attempted a nonchalant shrug, "Ichigo always did keep me around for the comic relief."

Mizuiro didn't reply, lost in his own thoughts.

Keigo sighed, drooping even more. Tapping the casket lightly, "We'll miss you, buddy."

* * *

Karin wasn't hiding.

No, if she were hiding she'd be in her room, curled up in her closet. Or in the topmost branch of that one tree by the schoolyard, hidden by the leaves.

No, Karin wasn't hiding. She was practicing.

She positioned the soccer ball with her feet carefully. Aiming took a moment's thought and then she kicked with all her might.

_Twang! _The goal's net pulled taut.

The ball rolled back to her slowly. And she repeated herself.

Kick. _Twang!_

Goat-face hadn't left Ichigo's side since they found him. Refusing to eat. Refusing to sleep.

Karin had been entirely too young when mom had died, and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd done the same for her. She'd never have guessed from the way he'd acted when she had gotten older.

Kick. _Twang!_

Yuzu had cried until she was past tears, and then cried some more, her small form shaking with the dry sobs. Her voice still echoed in Karin's ears.

_Ichi-niisan! Please, don't go! Ichi-niisan!_

Kick. _Twang!_

Karin hadn't cried. She was too numb to cry. She hadn't visited Ichigo yet, either. Because she knew that she would lose whatever control she had left when she did.

Kick. _Twang!_

Thinking of her brother made her heart ache more than she'd like to admit, but her mind still couldn't stop turning to the beginning of the summer.

Ichigo hadn't been the same. It wasn't just the way he acted that she noticed. It was the way he moved. His gait had become more lazy and his arms swung more when he walked. But it was his expressions that she really noticed. His grins were more devious, his confusion showed more obviously, his normally reserved expression thinner, duller. Less practiced. There had been times when Karin doubted that the teenager was Ichigo at all!

Then there were his walks. The new Ichigo couldn't get enough of being outside, out of the house. In fact, if he stayed _inside_ for too long he got jumpy, almost claustrophobic. And so he was outside more than he'd ever been before, just _walking_ around Karakura lazily.

It was those walks that had him up before dawn in a neighborhood he had no business being in. And now she'd never have the opportunity to ask why. Why, damn it!

Kick. _Twang_!

And that wasn't even the worst of what was bothering her.

She remembered her summer as being a quiet one of watching T.V. and reading books, but at the same time images that suggested something completely different hovered at the edges of her memory. Giant monsters. Fights. Ichigo.

Her head ached with a fury every single time she tried to sort it out.

There was something she was missing, something she was forgetting. And Ichigo was right in the middle of it all.

But Ichigo was—

Kick.

The ball shot up in the air far past her intended goal, but she was far past caring.

* * *

He dreamed.

It was a weird dream.

Images, sounds, smells. They all kept rushing past him, faster than he could keep track of. Nevertheless, the images were burned into his head. Afterimages stayed and joined together with the next image, and the next, and the next. Mixing in with weird noises, faint smells, things brushing on the edges of his senses.

A women with long, wavy orange hair.

"_Ichigo, are you ready?" "Yes, Mom!" _

A man with a strong chin, and a goofy smile.

"_Be careful, kiddo." _

Two little girls.

"_Ichi-niisan, we missed you!"_

A tall Hispanic, standing over him, offering him a hand. "_Ichigo, I will always stand by your side." Loyalty. _A knocked over vase. _The smell of _flowers. _The smell of fear._

A strong young woman, with short brown hair beside another with long orange hair. "_Ichigo." Rain, it's raining._ A tall teenager carrying a glowing bow. _Trust._

_Faster._ _Faster. _

Black hair. "_Ichigo_." A monster. _Pain._ _Fear. _A dark man wearing sunglasses. "_Ichigo can you hear me?"_ _Determination. _Sakura petals. "_Kurosaki"._

_Faster, faster. _A small women, eyes closed in defeat before her flaming harbinger. _His head was about to burst._ The edges of his vision fading into black_. Waves of crashing sounds. _A smirking man hiding behind glasses. _Pain. So much pain. "Ryoka-boy"._ Purple. Black. _Laughter._ Red. White. "_Ichigo." _Relief.

And the overwhelming pressure that he thought would never end, that felt as if it had already been going on for an eternity, consumed him.

When he woke up, he didn't react to his surroundings right away, instead letting them wash over his exhausted form and muddled mind. The warmth of a heavenly pillow and soft sheets surrounded him and he could feel sunlight brushing against his face. In the distance he could hear the gentle noises of people bustling about. All he had to discomfort him was a slight pinch of pain in his right arm and a steady ache in his entire body that reached his core.

And then his stomach growled quite fiercely, ruining the moment of sleepy contemplation.

He forced his eyes open, frowning in displeasure.

The room he was in was small and tidy. On his right, a scattering of different machines lay beeping, some connected to tubes that went all the way the way over to the bed, piercing the skin on his right arm. On his left, there was an empty chair, a vase of wilting flowers, and a door.

He blinked, not recognizing any of it. Confusion motivated him to sit up slowly.

_Where am I?_

From the noises outside and the equipment in the room, he'd say this was a hospital of some sort.

_Why am I here?_

The last thing he remembered he was—

He raised his free hand to his head, thinking harder.

What did he remember?

There were vague images on the fringes of his memory. He knew they meant something, knew that they _were _something, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what.

He couldn't even remember his name.

Vague alarm swept through him at the realization.

_Calm down. Think._

He was in a hospital. He felt horrible. Obviously something had happened. Maybe it was affecting his memory?

He glanced around the room again, hoping to spark some memory. His eyes landed on a clipboard resting near the foot of his bed, a good distance down from his feet.

_Jackpot._

He reached down and grabbed it, wincing as the movement pulled on IV still attached to his arm.

Medical jargon he had no hope of understanding filled most of the pages, but fitted snugly in the top right hand corner of the foremost sheet lay a name. His name.

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

"Kurosaki Ichigo. Ichigo," he repeated, testing it out in his head, "Ichigo."

It _felt_ familiar, if that made any sense. It felt right, like it belonged to him. But nothing more than a feeling came to mind at its discovery.

"Damn it."

The door to the left opened gently and he looked up from the chart quickly.

A tall, harried young woman carrying a tray of delicious smelling foods came in. She had short silver hair, except for the two thin braids on the right side of her face that reached all the way down to her shoulder. Dangling red earrings hung from each of her ears, and a white band of fabric carrying the number four was wrapped around the arm of her otherwise plain black kimono.

He didn't recognize her in the slightest.

His stomach growled in demand as the aroma from the tray continued to drift in his direction.

When she noticed he was awake, she smiled slightly.

"Hello, Kurosaki-kun, it's good to see that you're awake. How are you feeling?" she asked gently as she settled the tray down on the bedside table next to him and took the clipboard out of his hands.

He frowned, "Confused. What's going on?"

She nodded sympathetically while reading something off of one of the machines to his right, before facing him directly.

Up close she looked near to exhaustion, but her gray eyes were focused as they stared at him.

His stomach roared in hunger again.

She smiled again, picking up a bowl of steaming donburi from the tray and handing it to him carefully, "Why don't you eat, Kurosaki-kun, and I'll try to give you an explanation."

He was anxious. Confused. Exhausted. But hunger seemed to prevail through his senses. Breaking apart the chopsticks the woman handed to him with a snap, he eagerly dove into the bowl.

"My name is Kotetsu Isane," the woman said as she pulled the chair closer to the bed and took a seat, "and I am the Vice Captain of the Fourth Division of the Gotei 13, where you are located. And if you hadn't already figured it out from the charts, your name is Kurosaki Ichigo.

You are in a place called the Soul Society. This is where souls return after they die in the Human World."

He stopped chewing as her words washed over him. He wasn't dumb, he could easily put two and two, or in this case, his lack of memory and his location together.

"I'm dead?" he asked, surprised and with a little suspicion. Death wasn't something he had considered. Of course, lack of memory made it hard to have any kind of foresight, "What do you mean, _I'm dead_? How did I _die_?"

Isane's smile faltered, "Souls die and pass on all the time. It's impossible to track how all such incidences happened and it's difficult for the Soul Society to monitor the Human World close enough to record individual deaths. Because of that, it is rare that we know the instances of our death. I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun," she apologized.

Was it even possible to be dead? He didn't know if he'd ever been a spiritual person, but he had no evidence to contradict the possibility of there being an afterlife. Then again, he had no evidence to prove that it existed in the first place either. And just who was this Isane Kotetsu? How did he know that she was telling the truth?

"I know this is hard to accept. It's never easy. But I'm afraid only time and what you will see in the next few days will make it easier to understand."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" he spoke his earlier thought.

Isane's face gentled in understanding, "I suppose for now you're just going to have to trust me. Once you're released from here, you'll be able to see it all for yourself and come to your own conclusions. There are hundreds of shinigami like me around, and thousands of souls that you'll be able to observe and talk to. It'll be a little confusing at first, but pretty soon you'll fall into the routine of it all like the rest of us have."

Isane's eyes were just as full of honest conviction as they were the exhaustion he had spotted earlier. The light laugh lines on her face, her doe-like eyes, the fact that she'd brought him food, it all had him wanting to trust her.

And for now, all he _could_ do was trust her.

"Why can't I remember dying?" He asked, once again testing the waters and gauging her response, "Or remember anything for that matter. I feel as if there's something I'm forgetting, but I can't. . . "

"Kurosaki-kun," Isane broke in gently, laying her hand on his in comfort, "after someone has died, it is nearly always the case that they forget their past life. Sometimes this happens gradually over an individual's first few months as a soul, but in many instances memories of their past life are gone from the moment they're killed and transferred to the Soul Society. Likewise, when souls are reincarnated back into the World of the Living, they have no memory of what took place in their time here as a simple soul. One cannot say for certainty why, but that has always been the way of things. Personally, I think it's a good thing. Souls can be free to begin a new, start a life fresh without whatever weights and bonds held them in the past life."

He bit his lip at that. If she was telling the truth, then this was it. His past life was gone. And from the sound of it, it would never come back. He was starting over with nothing and no one. Isane made it sound like a good thing. But even just the few moments of thinking it over here and now had him afraid. _What was he supposed to do now?_

Isane pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Now, there is a _lot_ of information that you're going to have to learn from this point. Because of your age as well as your level of reiryoku, you'll be receiving specialized training at the Shino Acadamy to help you develop a foundational understanding of everything from history and etiquette to the spiritual arts. For now I think it's best if I answer any questions you might have, and give you, well, the condensed version of what's going on."

Her granting him the freedom to ask more questions unleashed his curiosity and so he barreled on.

"_Why am I so tired?" _

"_What is the Gotei 13?" _

"_What's reiryoku?" _

"_How old am I?" _

"_What's the Shino Academy?" _

"_Why am I getting it?" _

"_Does everyone get specialized training?" _

"_How many souls are there here?" _

The list went on and on, and for every question answered twenty more popped up in its place. Isane did her best to answer each one to the best of her abilities and it was all Ichigo could do to retain even a fraction of it all.

All of his questions brought him to the most basic of understandings.

Ichigo had been fifteen when he'd died, but because of the way time and spiritual energy worked in the Soul Society (Isane's explanation of the matter had gone in one ear and out the other) he was closer to twelve or thirteen physically. He was tired because he had had such a large reiryoku (part of that spiritual power she'd talked about) when he died, it had all been absorbed in the process of dying leaving him drained. It would take him some time and a lot of training to build up his reserves again.

The Gotei 13 was the military force of the Soul Society made up of Shinigami in charge of defending the Soul Society and hunting hollows (monsters of some sort). The Fourth Division, which Isane was a part of, was in charge of healing and the janitorial duties of the Seretei (the center of the Soul Society). He'd learn more about the other Division's in his classes at the Shino Academy.

The Shino Academy trained souls with high spiritual power (or reiryoku, Ichigo reminded himself) to become Shinigami. Normally it took four to six years to finish but Ichigo was different. He would be receiving specialized training that would undoubtedly go by quicker than the normal process because he was both incredibly young and potentially incredibly powerful. And no, most students didn't receive it.

Which lead him to ask why he was so special.

After enough badgering on that subject specifically, Isane'd admitted somewhat nervously that she didn't have a high enough clearance to know all the details of his case. He didn't know what was more disturbing; the fact that he even had a 'case' or the fact that a Vice Captain didn't have the clearance to know it.

Isane's somewhat long explanations had given him time to finish his donburi and the food hit his stomach perfectly. After a while he felt his curiosity dulling to a low roar as exhaustion once again took its place. He blinked repeatedly as he fought to stay awake and continue listening to the Vice Captain.

But he couldn't fool her. Isane smiled one last time before standing up and picking up his left over dishes, "Don't worry about understanding it all right now, Kurosaki-san. That will come with time. For now, sleep. Get some rest—"

He was long gone before she'd finished with "— while you can."

A nagging thought hovered for a split second before it too was gone. Through all of his questions, he hadn't even thought to ask how, if they had no records of his previous life, she had already known his name.

* * *

Isane's smile slid off her face the moment she closed the door behind her. She set the empty tray down on her cart, grabbing another, smaller one for the room next door.

She took a few deep breaths before replacing her smile, knocking and entering the next room.

"No, Captain Hitsugaya, please don't get up. I've just come to check the lieutenant's vitals. Here, I thought you'd enjoy a bowl of donburi while you were here."

". . . Thank you, Lieutenant Kotetsu."

* * *

"_Be careful, kiddo."_

Ichigo jerked awake, gulping in air as adrenaline pulsed through his body.

Sitting up, he put his fists to his eyes in frustration. There was. . . no. . . it was gone.

_Gone._

A hollowness panged in his gut. His eyes burned.

The sound of rustling fabric next to him removed him from his thoughts. He stiffened, lowering his hands quickly to peer out into the darkened room.

His heart stilled as he took in the tall figure standing just a few feet away from his bed. A white haori and scarf stood out in the moonlight, tekkou-covered hands rested at his sides, but the man's face was hidden in shadows.

Ichigo swallowed, blinking harshly, "Who's there? Show yourself!"

There was a slow moment where the figure didn't react, until finally he took a step forward so that his face entered the moonlight.

Ichigo's hands gripped the blanket in front of him tightly as he peered forward. The figure had a solemn, still face, and long dark hair arranged by white hairpieces that otherwise blended completely into the darkness behind him.

_Sakura blossoms swirled in clusters around him._

Ichigo blinked at the fleeting image, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. He swallowed again as the man's incriminating stare searched his face.

When the man turned abruptly to the door in silence, Ichigo felt a keen sense of disappointment.

"Wait," he called out before the figure could leave, "who are you?"

The figure halted.

There was only a short moment before Ichigo felt such an intense pressure that he couldn't breathe. Sweat broke out over his face as the man glanced back in cold fury. Ichigo felt the blood drain from his face, his eyes widening imperceptibly.

And then it was over. The man was gone. The door opened only slightly. He couldn't help but let out a shuddering breath when the alarming pressure was released.

"What," he shook, "what was _that_?"

Whatever it was, he wasn't just about to leave it alone.

He threw his covers back, yanking the last of the medical tubes from his arm, before stumbling out of bed and towards the door.

The man couldn't have gotten far.

He swung the door further open and then, with a dawning horror, tripped on the hem of his sleeping kimono and fell flat on his face with a flailing of limbs.

Groaning pathetically, Ichigo pulled himself back up, rubbing his now throbbing nose as he looked down the hallway.

_Nothing._

Then someone coughed slightly from behind him and he jerked around, still holding his nose.

It wasn't the man he had chased after. It was just a kid, standing by a door just past his own. A little shorter than Ichigo and with shockingly white hair that stood out glaringly in the night, the boy wore a white, sleeveless haori similar to the other man's.

As his past clumsiness caught up to him, Ichigo felt his face go red and he dropped his hand from his face.

"Kurosaki," the boy spoke sternly and Ichigo started at his name, "what are you doing out of your room?"

"There was a man in my room, I was trying to follow him," Ichigo said, deciding it was best to be honest.

Expressions flit across the boy's face as his head dropped down in thought, muttering the word "_Kuchiki."_

"Is that his name? Do you know him?" Ichigo asked quickly, "He didn't say anything, but—"

"Kuchiki is none of your concern," the boy snapped quietly and glanced back up at him before frowning slightly, "you should return to bed."

"He was _in_ my room," Ichigo said, feeling his irritation rise at the boy's easy dismissals. He wasn't about to go back to bed after what had just happened. He wanted answers. Why was that man there? Who was he? What was that energy?

And besides that, he wasn't feeling particularly inclined to follow the orders of a kid that was shorter than he was.

The boy's frown deepened, the lines on his face tightening, before he released his tensions in a calming breath.

"I will discuss the matter with him," the boy finally conceded.

"But why—"

"It's late Kurosaki. Return to your room," he said, his tone giving no room for argument.

He felt his eye twitch, his own frown growing.

_Why, the little—_

"Captain Hitsugaya, Kurosaki-kun," a newcomer called out and Ichigo turned to see a young, pensive man approaching them. Unlike the boy next to him, he was wearing only a plain black kimono, and also unlike the unmoving body next to him, the man seemed filled with a nervous, twitchy energy, grappling his hands together and peering towards the other boy in concern.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, and was it just Ichigo or was this guy purposefully avoiding looking at him, choosing to dart only a few almost frightened glances in his direction.

_Wait—_ had he said _Captain _Hitsugaya?

"You're a _Captain_?" he blurted out, and he would avidly deny later that his voice raised an octave. If he'd remembered correctly, Isane had said that Captains were the heads of the Division of the Gotei 13. He'd been imagining austere, old men of great power. His mental images ran into a wall at the sight before him.

"_Yes,_" the boy, Captain Hitsugaya, bit off in obvious irritation as a burst of energy, not unlike what he had felt in his bedroom earlier, raced through him briefly.

He swallowed the rest of his exclamations of disbelief.

The Captain looked back towards the growingly anxious man that stood next to them, clearly dismissing Ichigo from his thoughts.

"I'm leaving. I have other matters to attend to."

The man bowed and popped back up just as quickly, "Yes Captain Hitsugaya. Of course, sir. Thank you for your all of your visits. I— I think the lieutenant really benefits from them." He looked horrified at saying his last sentence, his eyes growing even wider.

The Captain only nodded once. "Handle Kurosaki. He shouldn't be wandering around at night," he said before turning his back on them to leave.

"I'm sorry! Of course, Captain Hitsugaya. I'll watch him very closely!" the man said, bowing multiple times in the direction of the Captain's receding back.

He let out a small sigh of relief once the boy was out of sight, glancing at Ichigo with a hesitant smile.

He seemed to remember that he didn't want to look at Ichigo and he started, literally jumping of his feet before stammering on "So, um, well. Let's get you back to uh, bed, Kurosaki-kun. It's very late, well, early and you need your rest."

Ichigo didn't move, his frown returning, "I'm not going back to sleep. I want to know what's going on! Who was that? What was that pressure? Who was the man in my room earlier?"

With each question the man's eyebrows raised higher and higher in a sort of despairing wonder, his hands twisting together with a nervous energy.

"Well, I, uh, I don't know if— wait, there was a man in your room?" the man asked, Ichigo's questions catching up with him.

Ichigo nodded, his frustration plain, "Yes, that boy, Captain Hitsugaya, said his name was Kuchiki."

"Captain Kuchiki?" the man's voice squeaked, wringing his hands, "Oh dear."

_Another_ captain?

"_Captain_ Kuchiki? I don't understand," Ichigo started incredulously, "is it that common to run into Captains around here?"

The man glanced at him warily, "For you, I'd say apparently so."

And just what did _that _mean?

The man took pity on him, his face softening even more as he stared at Ichigo, "I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun. Not knowing what's going on and stuck in a st-strange place must be very difficult. But there's nothing more we can do tonight, as-aside from letting Captain Hitsugaya handle the situation. For now it is best if you get back to sleep. Your reiryoku was particularly strained over the past few days following your, uh, d-d-death, and um, you should regain your strength as quickly as possible."

He _was _tired. Ichigo wouldn't lie. For all the sleep that he seemed to be getting, he could still feel that exhaustion in his bones, and his legs seemed embarrassingly shaky. Death took a lot out of you.

"And tomorrow, you'll tell me more about what's going on?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to give up a source of information.

"M-me?" the man asked nervously, "I'm sure there'll be someone bet—"

"I'd rather it be you," Ichigo said honestly.

The man blinked, "But why?"

Ichigo shrugged, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under the other man's observation.

"Why not? You don't seem too bad, much better than that Hitsugaya guy anyway," he paused, a grin growing as he watched the man sputter, "and I have a feeling I'm going to need a lot of help if I' going to understand half of what's going on around here."

And besides, from what he'd seen so far, he doubted the man could tell a lie to save his life, which meant that Ichigo could trust what he said with a certain confidence.

The man was still staring at him (personally Ichigo was glad he'd gotten past whatever his previous aversion was) and he watched in curiosity as the healer's face turned light pink.

The man bowed his head quickly, saying with a not-adeptly-veiled pleasure, "Of course, Kurosaki-kun, I'd be happy to help."

Ichigo smiled in relief, "That's great, thanks a lot."

He turned slightly before pausing, scratching his head in awkwardness, "Oh, uh, what's your name again?"

There was a flash of some sad emotion that Ichigo couldn't understand before the man responded quietly, "Hanataro. Yamada Hanataro."

"Hanataro," Ichigo chuckled, "that's a funny name."

Another flash, and then Hanataro smiled, chuckling himself, "So I've been told."

"Well," his chuckling morphed into a yawn, "Good night then, Hanataro." With a wave he headed back to his room satisfied that he'd be getting more answers in the morning.

"Goodnight, Ichigo," Hanataro replied, feeling happier than he had in days.

**To be continued.**

**Author's notes:**

**The **_**koden **_**Keigo and Mizuiro held at the beginning was condolence money, a common gift to the family of the deceased. For those interested, I used Buddhist funeral traditions to influence that first scene. **

**Second, this fic might be taking liberties of some of the nuances of the Bleach world. I'll admit, while I enjoy reading and watching the series from time to time I am by no means an expert. With that said, and with this being fanfiction, I hope you will all find it in your hearts to forgive me. **

**And finally, and as always, I tend to be sporadic in my writing and so updates are always up in the air. A giant batch of cyber cookies goes to _Lil Mexican_ for kicking me into shape this time round. I will try to keep myself more on the straight and narrow this time. **

**I foresee one more chapter and then Ichigo's off to a lucky Division. Want to make a suggestion? Poll's on my profile page.**

**Thanks for reading,**

**StrictlySomething**


	3. Chapter II, Part I

**Disclaimer: *waves hand mysteriously* this is not the author you are looking for. **

**It has come to my attention that uploading this the first time didn't work, and that it's just been sitting there awkwardly, collecting confused and disappointed viewers. Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! Thanks to everyone who pointed it out! Hopefully it works this time. **

**And enjoy the chapter!**

**Chapter Two, Part One:**

_Captain's Meeting, 1__st__ Division Meeting Hall_

"Moving on to our next state of affairs, why has Kurosaki Ichigo not begun his training?" The Soutaicho commanded harshly.

Captain Unohana stepped up from her row of fellow captains, speaking softly, "Kurosaki Ichigo is still adjusting. I'm afraid the affects of his human death have impacted him far more than is usually seen in newborn souls."

Captain Ukitake looked towards her in concern, "What? Do you know why?"

Retsu bowed her head slightly in affirmation, "I believe it has to do with how Kurosaki-san died." There was a slight shift in the pressure of the room, the Captains knowing very well that his death hadn't been natural in any sense of the word.

"As you are probably aware, unlike ourselves, humans are made of two key components, both soul and body. While they are alive, the two are aligned, that connection seen visibly in the existence of a soul chain. One cannot survive without the other. Without a soul, the body is an empty shell, its primary functions cease and it begins to decay. Without a body, a soul becomes unstable and its soul chain begins to erode until either a Soul Burial is preformed or the plus becomes a hollow."

"Maa, we already know all that Unohana. What's it got to do with Ichigo?" Kenpachi interrupted impatiently. Pausing, the healer turned in his direction with an aura that made his hair stand on end (more so than usual). How a weak looking, and if Kenpachi was going to be completely honest with himself, motherly figure like Unohana could even emit such an energy, he didn't know. But it was disturbing.

Not that he'd ever admit that.

In contrast with the undercurrent of impending doom being sent his way, Captain Unohana only smiled softly in understanding, "Yes, Captain Zaraki. I do apologize for the inconvenience, only this information is important to understanding the situation. May I continue?"

The violent Captain grunted harshly, "Yeah. . . whatever."

"Thank you, Captain," Unohana said kindly before turning back to the Commander, "As I was saying, the body and soul of humans are permanently linked, and the soul chain acts as an anchor between the two. However, in my observations of Kurosaki Ichigo before his death, I became aware of the fact that his soul chain no longer existed."

"That's right!" Kurotsuchi cackled in excitement, having learned nothing from Kenpachi's own interruption, "And that's what makes a Substitute Shinigami so very interesting! There are only two ways that a human could possibly develop shinigami powers. Either he borrows that power from someone else or he severs his soul chain in order to possess his own, which would otherwise be unobtainable until he died. But therein lays the problem, without the soul chain, any human who attempted the process should die anyway! Substitute Shinigami shouldn't exist! Kurosaki Ichigo is an enigma! Of course, if I could study that boy I would be able to figure out how he did it! He's dead now which is inconvenient, but—"

"Control yourself, Captain Kurotsuchi," Yamamoto reprimanded, his eyes opening to stare directly at the other in full seriousness, "You are not to go near Kurosaki Ichigo."

Several palpable sighs of relief were heard throughout the room as the order they had all been waiting for was finally solidified. There had been some concerns about the Twelfth Division Captain's interest in Kurosaki. The man's interests were known to be dismembered fairly quickly, after all.

Kenpachi Zaraki sighed for a different reason. This was one reason he hated damn Captain's meetings. All these old goats had nothing better to do than sit around discussing things for hours and hours. He didn't care about Kurotsuchi, he didn't care about whether or not Substitute Shinigami should exist, and he didn't care about damn soul chains! It was times like this that he wondered if killing off the old Eleventh Captain had even been worth it. _Give me a fight any day, I'd whoop their asses_, he grumbled internally.

"Captain Kurotsuchi is right," Unohana agreed, "Somehow, against all odds, Ichigo managed to retain his connection with his body even without his soul chain, so that he did not completely die. There are numerous possible explanations for this, however I believe it will suffice to simply surmise that Ichigo was able to do so with the help of Urahara Kisuke. This continued link is aided by the unique fact that Kurosaki-kun was killed with his soul already present in the Soul Society. And that's where the problem lies.

During his presence here as a ryoka, he still retained his link with his body. And when that connection with his body was severed at its death, all of the data from within that link, all of the information formed in the body itself after years of being occupied by Ichigo, and even leftover residue from his own spiritual energy was forced to return to his Soul across not only an abnormally large distance, but through separate dimensions. Due to the great distance, and the energy found within the Soul Society itself, the power of Ichigo's was magnified to an astonishing degree before coming into contact with his Soul."

Captain Kyoraku lifted his head in contemplation, "Ah, so all of Ichigo's remaining essence from his organic body snapped back when he died, like a sling shot, accelerating with a growing force until it reached him. I imagine that made quite the impact."

"Quite so, Captain Kyoraku. That coupled with the natural soul burial was too much of a shock for the child's system. He entered a light healing coma which he only woke up out of a day ago. Even now, his reiryoku is still slow in establishing itself."

"_Long winded old bat, don't know why she couldn't have just said that in the first place_," Kenpachi muttered quietly in frustration.

"What was that, Captain Zaraki?" Unohana asked, glancing once more in his direction in honest curiousity. And with yet another sense of impending doom.

He felt a sweat-drop form, "Eh? Nuthin'."

"Ayai yai," Kyoraku shook his head sympathetically, "Poor kid. He hasn't had it easy."

"Are there any other side effects of this?" Ukitake asked, his concern growing.

Unohana paused a moment in thought, "I have not observed any. But, Kurosaki-kun's case is completely unique, and as such, it's impossible to say with a one hundred percent certainty that nothing else will arise."

Head Captain Yamamoto shifted, drawing everyone's eyes back to him, "Despite this setback, I want Kurosaki to begin his training as soon as possible. He will attend advanced classes at the Academy. And he will also partake in missions within the Gotei 13 itself. If anymore effects of this backlash should develop, we'll deal with them as time permits."

"Eh? Missions?" Kyoraku asked lifted his hat up slightly, staring at the old man in surprise, "Are you placing him in a Division so soon, Yama-ji?"

"No," the Head Captain stated, "I do not want Kurosaki assigned until he has returned to some of his previous strength. Once he has regained his shikai, it will show that enough progress has been made, and this will give us some time to observe where he'd be best suited. For now, he will take part in any missions found suitable for the purpose of training him, regardless of Division."

"Also," Yamamoto continued, "I will remind everyone that the matter of Kurosaki Ichigo's death as well as information on his past life has been sealed. Kurosaki is now a shinigami, and matters of his previous life are not only meaningless, but will only serve to disrupt his training. Anyone caught discussing anything of that nature will be sentenced harshly. You would do well to remind the others under your command of this."

Murmurs of assent followed, although the air was distinctly unsatisfied around some.

"With that said, a shinigami needs to be assigned to Kurosaki, to keep an eye on the boy and escort him to and from the Academy. We cannot let such a potential power be led astray or injured inadvertently."

"I believe the child has already met with a member of my Division, Yamada Hanataro, that he feels comfortable around," Unohana volunteered. "And as a member of my division, he will be able to recognize if there are any unnatural conditions occurring within the child."

"Good," Yamamoto said approvingly, "Make this Yamada aware of his new duties."

"Of course, Yamamoto-sotaicho," Unohana said calmly.

"Then that is settled," Yamamoto resolved. "We shall move forward to the investigation of seated officers in Divisions Three, Five, and Nine."

Unohana stepped back, and the shorter Captain of the Second Division stepped forward with a snap.

"Sir! Numerous interrogations and investigations of the suspects' duties have led us to believe that seated officers of all three divisions had no awareness of their Captains' trea—"

If any of the other Captains noticed the angry bite marks and scratches that littered the small captain's face and arms, they were respectful enough to keep silent about the matter.

"Eeeh? What happened to your face? Lose a fight with a cat or somethin'?"

Except for Captain Zaraki. The man had most definitely never been known for his tact.

* * *

_Fourth Division, Southern Courtyard_

To Ichigo's frustration his bone deep exhaustion had only faded a little by the next morning.

"What's wrong with me?" he grumbled as he took another turn around one of the numerous Fourth Division Courtyards. Despite all of his complaints, they had yet to allow him out of the complex. His walk around this tiny little garden was the most all of his pleadings to Hanataro had granted.

The mentioned healer walked beside him patiently.

"Souls are expected to feel some rebound from their deaths. Yours is just a little more. . . extreme than normal," Hanataro said, attempting to comfort the boy.

"Geez, great," he huffed with a frown. A movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to see Vice Captain Kotetsu walking out from under an arch accompanied by another woman, sporting a long black-haired braid down her front and a white haori.

_Another Captain, _Ichigo thought somewhat nervously, having learned what the white haori signified. The two woman stood waiting as they approached them slowly, Ichigo's reticence at meeting yet another Captain dragging his feet. The previous two encounters hadn't left him desirous for more.

"Captain Unohana, Vice Captain Kotetsu," Hanataro greeted respectfully, bowing his head to each in turn.

Once they reached them, Ichigo noted that Isane held a wrapped package in her hands. "Hello, Ichigo," she said with a smile before turning to Hanataro. "If I could speak with you a moment, Hanataro."

The healer nodded eagerly, and the two moved a distance away, out of Ichigo's range of hearing.

The Captain, however, remained facing him causing him to swallow. She was a tall, slender woman, with blue eyes and a youthful face that urged Ichigo to feel at ease. Still, she was a _Captain_.

"Kurosaki-kun, how are you feeling today," she asked kindly, and he felt his nerves settle somewhat.

"Um, okay," he said sheepishly, with the tiny understatement, "A little tired, I guess."

Before Ichigo could blink, there was a warm hand on his forehead and he had the impression of a mother checking over sick child. A strange, muted energy trickled its way down his limbs and he breathed in sharply at the feeling.

"Hmm," Unohana said, removing her hand. "Your reiryoku hasn't reached equilibrium quite yet, and your reiatsu levels are still uneven. But they are better than they were," she added with a smile, her eyes crinkling closed, "You should stabilize quite nicely over the next few weeks."

_A few weeks?! _Ichigo repeated internally. Dying was a pain.

Hanataro and Isane took that moment to approach them again. "We're all set, Captain," the Vice Captain said respectively.

"Good," Unohana said, turning to look at Ichigo once more. "Take care of yourself, Kurosaki-kun. Don't overwork yourself and get plenty of rest, and don't forget to eat three times daily to regain your strength. If you begin to feel ill, or overly tired please let Hanataro-kun know and don't hesitate to stop by our Division."

"Wait, does that mean I'm out of here?" Ichigo asked curiously.

Unohana smiled again, "Indeed, you are being released. I'm sorry I can't explain more, but I'm afraid I have been rather busy of late. Hanataro-kun has been given all of the details, if you have any questions."

"Ah," Ichigo said, feeling slightly bewildered, "Okay."

"Take care, Kurosaki-kun. Goodbye, Hanataro-kun."

"_Ja_ _ne_," Ichigo said uncertainly as Hanataro bowed again.

Ichigo turned to him as the other two walked away, "Does this mean I'm starting my training?" he asked, remembering the conversation from the day before.

The shy healer before him nodded, "Yes, Kurosaki-kun," and Ichigo saw that Isane had given him her package.

"So soon? I mean, I just woke up yesterday. I figured you dead folks would be more relaxed," Ichigo asked.

"It's best if you start right away. You have plenty to catch up on. There's _Hakudo, Hohou, Kidou, Zanjutsu,_ as well as supplementary classes in_ Rek. . ._" Hanataro ticked off with his fingers.

"Okay, okay," Ichigo grumbled, "I get it. I have a lot to learn."

"Don't worry too much, Ichigo-kun. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it all fairly quickly."

"Easy for you to say," Ichigo said (not pouting at all, whatsoever, no sir), "And besides, I'm not worried."

The tour of the Academy was nice enough. First he was shown the room that he'd be sharing with another soon-to-be shinigami, one Raito Tuoh. It was rather utilitarian, with only a plain bunk pushed into the far right corner and two desks on the other wall, positioned on either side of a simple three-shelved bookshelf. His new roommate hadn't done much decorating, okay, _no_ decorating, the only sign that anyone else was living there being the books stacked neatly on wooden shelves. His hospital room had shown more signs of life.

"Your uniforms are kept in the closet behind the sliding door, the public showers are found directly down the hall, and there's a laundry chute there for you to place your dirty uniforms."

After that, there was the eating hall, a huge room filled with benched tables. Then there was the Academy library, a multi-leveled labyrinth of books, and the training grounds, well-trodden courtyards organized with singed dummies and battered equipment. Uniformed trainees on their off period littered the grounds, and it was with a certain reserved anxiety Ichigo noticed that they were all a lot older than him.

Finally, he was shown the classrooms whose locations were straightforward to find, each individual school of learning given its own hall with the different rooms marking the separate levels of class. At the Kido Hall, Hanataro stopped, pulling out a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolding it, before handing it to him.

"This is your tentative schedule, Ichigo. You're being placed in the first level classes, and those will take up your mornings. After lunch, you'll have either individual study or you'll be escorted to one of the Gotei 13's Divisions for specialized training. If that's the case, I'll come get you."

Looking at the schedule, he took a deep steadying breath. The normal class schedule was six days a week, giving students a small break on Sundays. Breakfast began at sunrise; his first class was _Zanjutsu _I, two hours every day of the week. The next period was split evenly with three days of _Hakudo_ I and three days of _Hohou I_ for another two hours. _Kido_ I for yet _another_ two hours after that. And finally, an hour break for lunch. Sundays were smaller, _Rekishi_ and Shinigami Etiquette taking up only an hour period each before lunch.

"Ehh," he muttered uncertainly as he studied his schedule, "all of this?"

"Yes, yes it looks like it," Hanataro said tentatively, eyeing the paper himself.

"_And_ specialized training too?" his voice was rising.

"Well, yes," the healer was getting his nervous twitch again.

His grip on the paper tightened. It was an awful lot to learn. And things were moving awfully fast. It had only been two days since he'd woken up, not that long since he'd _died _and they'd already moved him off to the Academy, training to be a _death god _of all things.

And everyone here was so _old. _He hadn't really felt that young until they had started walking around, it put things in perspective when everyone else stood two heads taller than him.

Just how was he supposed to catch up with people that looked like they had been doing this for years? A hand smothered his hair as Hanataro patted his head, "You'll do great, Ichigo-kun. I have faith in you."

He felt heat rush to his cheeks as he shook the healer's hand off, frowning, "Yeah. . ."

There was a low _gong! _that rang throughout the hall. Doors slowly opened as students left their classrooms. With a last hesitant farewell to Hanataro, he moved forward to his class, stepping in cautiously.

Other, older students were already gathering inside, talking quietly as they settled into respective seats. What must be the sensei stood at the front in a dark kimono, reading out of a book. Ichigo's grip tightened once more on his schedule, and he realized with a deep seated feeling, _this was it_. He was going to be a shinigami. Train to fight hollows and protect the living, and it all started here. This was the first day of the rest of his life.

_So you better get it right_, a snide voice commented in the back of his head.

Right, he stepped forward, "Sensei?" he voiced, attracting the man's attention.

"Eh?" the man turned towards him, and Ichigo pointedly avoided staring at the rather large mole that rested on the man's chin. "You must be Kurosaki Ichigo, correct?"

Ichigo nodded, causing the man to frown.

"Well, you're a few weeks late. The class has already covered the basic Kido principles and we've moved on to practical spell work."

Not knowing what to say, he waited silently. Wasn't his fault he chose an inconvenient time to die.

The man grunted, walking over to his desk and picking up many rolls of parchment. "This is the material we've covered," he said, handing him the armful. "You're not going to be doing any spell work until you've read through it, and most importantly, until you understand it. Otherwise you'll end up blowing your limbs off."

He swallowed drily.

"I'll give you fair warning. Kido is an art that builds on itself. You have to master low grade spells in order to progress to higher graded ones. That means if you fall behind on even one spell, you won't be able to move forward on your other assignments. You'll need all the in-class practice you can get to make sure that doesn't happen, so I recommend you read fast to not miss much of it. Now, go ahead and take a seat in the back of the class. I expect you to get through the first three chapters before lunch."

And so it began.

* * *

_Two Months Later, Rukongai_

"You know, for such a short brat, you've sure got a mouth on you."

"Ah, whatever, just give me the damn fruit, I'm going to be late."

The vendor handed over the bag with a shake of his head.

"Thanks," Ichigo said, turning back the way he came, "See you next week, old man."

The clouds were building above him, and Ichigo picked up his speed. Three districts away, and there was no way in hell Ichigo was about to willingly get caught in the rain. He took a breath, and decided to put his _shunpo _technique to work.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he made sure to keep a tight grip on his grocery bag. Having to explain himself to a fruit-splattered aristocrat _again _was the last thing he wanted to do.

Finally, the Sereitei walls came back into view and he dropped down from the roof in front of the looming guard. "Hey, I'm going in now," he called to the weird tortoise like creature, which didn't even bother sparing him a glance.

"Right," he muttered, before hopping back on the rooftops, leaping from shingled roof to shingled roof until he reached the familiar looking courtyard outside of the Academy. Dropping down, he caught sight of his roommate on a bench positioned below a Sakura tree.

Raising a hand, he called out, "Yo, Raito," causing the young man to look up from his book.

Raito held the appearance of a young man with light brown hair and equally brown eyes. He was a serious student, with a full dedication to becoming a Shinigami of the finest caliber. Normally his intensity was disturbing, but Ichigo couldn't imagine where he'd be if the focused man hadn't been made his roommate.

Probably still on the theory behind Hado 1, _Sho_, he thought miserably.

It wasn't like he was having trouble in any of the other basic fighting techniques. He was taking to Zanjutsu and Hakuda like a duck to water. Once his instructor showed him a technique, his muscles absorbed the information, sliding into the required positions and performing them with an unnerving ease. He _excelled, _and had already jumped into the second year of each class, moving slowly up to the top slot in even saying "like riding a bike, once you learn, you never forget," stuck with him, and he had the feeling that fighting had somehow been a part of his past life.

Hoho was a little more difficult, he wouldn't lie; it was something that he had to work on. But with his effort he managed, quite proudly he'd say, to remain adequately average. Not the best user in his class, but not the worst either. And he could live with that, as long as his work had tangible results, as long as his _shunpo _got steadily better, his control over it tighter, and his speed faster.

But that _damn _kido, no matter what he tried, no matter how hard he concentrated, it would always, _always,_ blow up in his face without fail. Hence, the study session on the early Sunday afternoons that his roommate had so kindly offered after taking pity from watching him suffer for weeks on end under growing rolls of parchment, singed eyebrows, and no results.

"Ichigo-kun," Raito offered with a small smile, shutting his book with a snap and setting it beside him.

He resisted the urge to twitch at the suffix, instead pulling out the bag. It had taken him some time, but he'd found out that Raito Suoh had one thing outside of classwork he actually enjoyed. And that was _rambutan_. A weird, spiky red fruit with a meaty white interior that was pretty hard to find, especially in the fall months. So far, he'd only stumbled across the one vendor that sold it.

But, Ichigo didn't have anything else that Raito might need, and it was only fair that he offered something up for the much needed tutoring. Fruit seemed to be the answer.

"Here," he grunted, holding out the bag awkwardly so that Raito could take it. Actually giving Raito the fruit wasn't his forte.

"Ah," Raito took the bag slowly, and said as he did every time he peered into it, "Thank you very much, Ichigo-kun. But really, this isn't necessary. Helping you is my pleasure. I like the challenge."

He twitched again, but couldn't complain. Trying to get him and Kido to coexist _was_ a challenge_, just not one that Raito needed to constantly verbalize_.

"So," Raito continued, placing the bag carefully by his book (Ichigo caught a glimpse of the title, _Reconstructing the Spiritual Nebulae: Origins of the Sakutsu and Hakusui_, whatever that meant), "You are still working on Hado spellwork graded ten through fifteen, correct?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said sourly, sitting down on the grass and pulling out a heavy tomb that was full both Hado and Bakudo spellwork from his satchel, "I manage to get _Tsuzuri Raiden _more than fifty percent of the time I try now, but _Fushibi _still won't do anything but release a cloud of foul smelling smoke."

"Kurosaki-kun!" called out a familiar voice, interrupting Raito before he could even begin.

"Hanataro?" Ichigo asked in confusion, turning to look at the healer that was jogging up to them quickly.

"Oh! Hello, Suoh-san!" Hanataro greeted as he finally reached them, bowing shortly, "I am sorry for interrupting."

Raito stood up politely, and Ichigo followed, "It's no bother, Yamada-san. Did you need Ichigo?"

"Oh, um, yes!" he glanced back at Ichigo uncertainly, "Sorry about the short notice, they just sent word."

"They?" Ichigo asked in confusion.

"Well," Hanataro said as he bent down and picked up Ichigo's tomb, sticking it back in his bag, "Remember after you woke up and I gave you that tour, I said you'd be receiving specialized training at the Gotei 13?"

"Oh," Ichigo said, thinking back. "Yeah, I guess."

"A spot just opened up on a routine patrol of the Rukongai outer districts. You've been nominated to fill it as a part of that training."

Ichigo froze, sputtering, "A patrol? _Me?"_

"Yes. You'll be able to learn more if you observe a squad in action."

_Damn. _He knew he was on the advanced track. Everyone seemed to rub that in his face at every moment possible. And his already accelerated schedule was insane enough to show it. For the past two months he had spent every moment thinking, eating, and sleeping _Shinigami._

But to be included in a patrol? Taking missions from the Gotei 13 while still at the Academy was a weighty privilege, and there were only rumors that it ever happened. Those rumors following prodigies that passed through the Academy in just a year, or even less. But it was strange to think that he was one of those prodigies. Sure he had some spiritual energy, and excelled at combat. But he hadn't even found his zanpakuto spirit yet.

Still, he thought slowly. A patrol meant he would actually be doing something with all of his damn training. It wouldn't just be theory anymore. He'd be out in the field on the look-out for hollows; doing real Shinigami work. And not to sound too juvenile, but that sounded _exciting. _A hell of a lot better than stuffing kido incantations into his brain anyway.

"Don't worry, Ichigo. This patrol is in a low risk area, and this squad will include several seated officers that can handle any problems that arise, meaning you're in safe hands."

Leave it to Hanataro to take away some of that excitement.

"But we do have to leave," Hanataro finally added, in his ever present hesitancy. "We don't want to be late. You can bring your book bag if you want," he said, lifting up the hefty object.

"Nah, it's okay," Ichigo said, grabbing the bag, "Wait here. I'll drop it off in my room real quick."

And with a _shunpo _flash, he was off.

When Ichigo disappeared around the corner, a throat clearing reminded Hanataro that he wasn't alone and he turned to look back at Raito Suoh.

Feeling awkward at the silence he attempted conversation, "I want to thank you again for tutoring Ichigo, Suoh-san. It is much appreciated."

Raito shook his head, "It's nothing. Your Shinigami comrade was quite clear in my duties as Kurosaki's roommate. I would be neglecting those if I let him fall behind in Kido."

Hanataro flushed red, "Ah, yes. Nevertheless, thank you."

"Anything for the Gotei 13," Raito responded smoothly, before continuing. "It's certain that Kurosaki has potential, but it's hard for a young soul with so large an amount of reiryoku to have the focus and control required for such a detail-oriented practice. I am glad to be of service."

"Mmm," the healer agreed in sympathy. It certainly seemed like Ichigo's penchant for a lack of control had passed on from his previous life.

"I couldn't help but overhear that you are having Kurosaki participate in a patrol?" Raito continued in a lightly interested voice, "I know that someone in the Gotei 13 has a vested interest in the boy's education, but it seems curious to have the boy join normal duties so early, doesn't it?"

_Uh-oh. _Overly curious people weren't Hanataro's forte.

"Um, well," he fumbled, _relax, _"Kurosaki-kun's a unique case."

"I see."

Hanataro had the feeling the he didn't, not really.

"I suppose his expedient training has to do with the disappearance of three captains that occurred three month ago. No doubt the Gotei 13 wants to fill in some of the power gap," Hanataro's nerves were rising. He hated idle talk that bordered the touchy issues. He sincerely hoped that Raito didn't want to stick his nose into certain _classified_ information, because that'd make this conversation even more awkward. And probably end with a court-martial.

"It would be safe to assume that they'll also be promoting more from the Academy into officer's positions as well, wouldn't it?" There was a hopeful note in the student's voice.

Hanataro felt a huge amount of relief, suddenly following the Raito's line of questioning. _Of course!_

"Oh yes," he said, hurriedly, "the separate divisions are always looking for more qualified applicants. You're in the advanced classes yourself, aren't you Suoh-san? I'm sure you're at the top of their lists."

No doubt the student was everything they were looking for. Dedicated. Rule-abiding. And obviously skilled. He sensed a position being filled in the Sixth Division sometime in the near future.

He felt more than saw (it was with a rush of pride that Ichigo was undoubtedly getting better at _shunpo_) Ichigo re-emerge, and wearing a fresh uniform to boot.

"Ready," the boy said, somewhat breathlessly.

"Right!" Hanataro said cheerfully, "We're to meet the departing squad in front of the Eighth Division. I'll lead you there."

"Okay," Ichigo replied, turning back to Raito before they left. "Sorry about this Raito. See you later?"

"Don't worry about it, Ichigo-kun," Raito smiled, "we can try again sometime this week. Be careful and keep an eye out on your patrol. Hollows aren't the only problems when you're out in the further districts."

With that wary message in mind, he left, following Hanataro in a thankfully slow-pace _shunpo _to the rendezvous point.

* * *

Tatsuki knocked on Orihime's door again.

"Orihime? Are you in there?"

When no response was imminent she sighed, leaning her head against the door. "Where are you?" she muttered thoughtfully. Her best friend hadn't shown up for school, again. As understandable as avoiding school was, it took Tatsuki entirely too long in the morning to convince herself to go, it was beginning to get worrisome.

And Tatsuki didn't enjoy spending the entire day staring at empty desks.

_Ichigo. _By now, his absence was a dull ache. The familiar empty desk dreaded, but expected.

But every day that Orihime, Sado, and Uryu Ishida weren't present, she felt an ominous kick to her stomach.

She was worried for her friend. Orihime hadn't been handling Ichigo's death well.

_Who was? _Because she sure as hell wasn't either.

But there was something more to Orihime's mourning that Tatsuki couldn't quite put her finger on. It was the same with Sado, and that Uryu Ishida. They were all entirely too silent, not expressing their grief. Even at the funeral all three of them had remained mysteriously reserved, with hidden expressions as if they knew something that she didn't.

She tapped her head onto the solid wood of Orihime's door.

Tatsuki knew that the girl had gotten closer to Ichigo sometime over the summer, along with Sado and Uryu. She wasn't sure when they'd found the time, but it was obvious that they had become quite close-knit. So it made sense that his death would hit even harder. Even though Ichigo had been her friend too, _damn it! _And she was just as angry, just as despairing as any of them must be!

And now that Ichigo was no longer with them, they were still together, missing school like she vaguely remembered them doing the year before. Tatsuki was positive that they were up to something big. And her gut told her it was dangerous.

"Tatsuki?" a surprised familiar voice called out from down the hall, causing her head to snap up.

"Orihime?" she looked over to see the girl, and took a step forward, "Orihime, where have you been?"

"Eh?" Orihime let out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of her head.

"And why are you all sweaty? Have you been working out?" Tatsuki asked, examining the girl carefully.

"Um, no, I mean yes! I went out for a run!"

Tatsuki frowned at the obvious lie, and then hesitated, "Orihime, you weren't at school today. What's going on?"

Orihime's smile fell, "Um, well, I wasn't feeling well. But," she exclaimed hurriedly, remembering that she'd just been out for a _run_, "I'm all better now!"

"Right," she sighed, and tried one more time, "Orihime, it's been two months, and you've come to school only a handful of times. And you're never at your apartment anymore," her throat tightened, "You want to tell me why?"

"It's- it's nothing. Um- my Aunt, she's sick! And I've been visiting her, and running errands!"

Tatsuki sighed, putting a hand to her face, "I don't even know what it was that made you decide you couldn't trust me anymore. When it was that you first felt the need to lie."

She couldn't even look at Orihime anymore, turning away as her eyes began to burn, "We've been friends, _best _friends, since we were kids, I helped you find your apartment when your brother died, I taught you karate, damn it I- I've been there for you Orihime all this time, and all I've ever wanted to do is help you! But now, now, you won't even talk to me anymore, won't even tell me whatever the hell is going on!"

She finally looked back at the wide-eyed Orihime, and her grip on her backpack tightened, her entire body shaking in frustration, "So is that it? After all we've been through together, you're fine with running off with Sado and Uryu and just _leaving me behind_?"

Tatsuki closed her eyes tightly to keep herself from crying, because she didn't cry.

"If so, just tell me now!" she yelled, "Because I- I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to look at the empty seats in the classroom and be left wondering what's going on, and if you're in danger, if you need my help. I don't want to wake up one morning just to find that you aren't there anymore, and always be left wondering if I could have _done something to save you_."

Because if it happened to Ichigo, a friend that she'd always known could take care of himself and watch after Orihime when she couldn't, then, well, Tatsuki wasn't stupid enough Orihime was safe. And she didn't want to be there on the sidelines when something bad happened.

Orihime's bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thunk, and suddenly Tatsuki felt arms thrown around her, a face pressing into her shoulder. She opened her eyes to a flood a red hair.

"Oh Tatsuki," Orihime sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't think- And I was causing you pain! I'm so sorry!"

A relief flooded through her as she returned the grip on the other girl, and she exhaled shakily. And finally Orihime released her, tears still growing on her face, "This hasn't been fair to you. I'm sorry."

"Why," Tatsuki asked roughly, "Why were you keeping things from me?"

Orihime looked down, her watery frown growing as she tried to formulate an answer.

"Ever since we were little, you've _always _protected me. I just thought, I just thought it was my turn to protect _you._"

A surge of emotion flooded through her once more, and Tatsuki let out a weak laugh, bowing her head in disbelief.

"Idiot," she muttered, and Orihime's head sunk lower.

"Orihime," Tatsuki said gently, putting an arm on her friend's shoulder, causing the other girl to finally look up, "that's not how it works. We're best friends; of course we're going to protect each other. It's our job to protect each other. But we don't do it alone_, _as some sort of secret mission that the other can't find out about. When we protect," she said with emphasis, "we do it _together_."

Orihime looked at her for a moment, her eyes widening, "R-right!"

"Now," Tatsuki said, seriously, "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"Well, it's- it's a long story and I don't really know how," Orihime said truthfully, her brow ruffled in thought, "But I can take you to someone who can. They'll know what to do."

Tatsuki nodded. _Finally. _She followed Orihime with a lighter heart. _Finally, she'd find out what had been happening. What was going on._

But they'd hardly make it across the park before something interrupted their plans. A ripping sound filled the air, and suddenly a deep ominous pressure surrounded her forcing Tatsuki to break out in a sweat.

"Oh no," Orihime said in serious worry, looking to her right, into the people filled park.

And that's when Tatsuki saw it. A break in the air that blurred on her vision.

A headache throbbed and suddenly she felt a gut-wrenching form of déjà-vu (_she had felt this before) _that had her gasping, "What- What is that?"

With a growing sense of panic she saw that the others in the park were beginning to collapse. Drop right to the ground, out cold.

"What's happening? Orihime?"

"Tatsuki, you can see them?" Orihime asked in a strained voice.

_Them?_

Tatsuki looked again, blinking several times. _Them. _There were two figures there, she knew that as she studied the air. One of them very large, the other thin, lithe. But where had she felt that before? And why couldn't she see them completely? Why—

A sharp pain went through her head and she grasped it falling to her knees, "_Ugh!"_

"_Tatsuki?"_

_Creatures surrounded her. Creatures with snarling faces, drum-shattering cries, and holes in their chests. She was in front of the dojo, her arm was injured. Orihime stood determined in front of her. _

_She kicked a monster, cracking it's mask, and watch as it faded from existence._

Memories swarmed as she suddenly realized, _remembered, _where she had felt that presence before. She had forgotten somehow, but now, even though her head throbbed with a worse pain, she remembered. Orihime with some strange power that shielded her. Ichigo wearing a black kimono. Monsters. So many monsters.

_How had she forgotten?_

Another surge of the present pressure reminded her that now was not the time to wonder. She glanced up and realized that Orihime had knelt down next to her in concern.

Her eyes hardened, "I-I'm okay, Orihime. I. . . I remember."

Orihime's eyes widened slightly, before she nodded once again. Tatsuki looked past her for a moment, back to the blurs on the edges of her vision. Except they weren't blurs anymore, and she forced herself not to swallow.

She had been right in that there were two of them. But they were unlike any of the monsters she had seen before. They looked almost human. And they felt a hundred (a _thousand _a small voice cried) times worse.

One was a heavily tanned giant, with weird scar like ridges on his skull and black bushy sideburns that went around to the thin ponytail at the back of his head. There was a skull like jaw bone attached to his chin and he had red tattoos cast under each eye. He wore an open white jacket with white pants.

The other was slender, with longer black hair and another skull-like helmet covering the right half of his head. Teal lines descended from his eyes all the way down his face. And his outfit matched the other's, with a white jacket and hakama, kept closed by a black slash.

The only notable thing that let her know these were like those monsters from her recovered memories were the two _holes _that went straight through their chests.

_Shit_.

They were in big trouble.

**To be continued.**

**Author's Notes: A painfully full filler chapter that was so full I had to split it in half. Things are going to pick up after this, but it's a pain to get things rolling. This first half seemed a little dry (or something), and I'm feeling a little iffy about it. What do you all think? **

**Part II is going to have more division interaction, and will be featuring some of the top picks for Ichigo's soon to be home. I'm narrowing in on the final division that will be resolutely added into the story's infrastructure at a date in the near future, but if you want to throw in your own thoughts feel free to partake in the poll set up on my profile, or just let me know via review! **

**This chapter was actually written, and ready to be posted a few weeks ago. But through a spark of events, starting with the lease on my new house being moved back three weeks and the no pro-rate policy at my old apartment, I recently experienced a bout of homelessness. It was an all-time low that included me sleeping on the couches, futons, and floors of friends of friends while finishing up my summer classes. In short: worst time ever. **

**But it's over now! I'm visiting the folks for two weeks, and thoroughly enjoying the free food, the **_**real **_**bed, and much needed vacation time. Hopefully I'll be able to get more writing in as well. Part II is still in need of some final touch-ups but I imagine an update in the near future. Still, just as a warning: updates are always sporadic.**

**Thanks for reading,**

**StrictlySomething**


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